No More Running
by PixieSpriteify
Summary: Set after Instinct. Helena and Myka must finally confront their situation, but not without a little push in the right direction by the right people. May become a series depending on the reception.
1. Chapter 1

Author's note: Just to say all the mistakes are mine, I do not own Warehouse 13 or the characters. Reviews are greatly welcomed and this may turn into a series if received well.

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Helena opened her eyes, sitting up sharply from her dream. She tried desperately to remember what happened, but simultaneously didn't want to know, the tears streaming down her face enough to tell her that it was traumatic. Taking a deep breath, she tensed as a warm hand was placed on her arm, but relaxed as soon as she remembered where she was. She wasn't alone. Turning, she forced a smile to Nate, who looked tiredly concerned.

"Just a dream, Nate," she said, clasping his hand in hers for a moment, before settling down again on the pillow. Nate wrapped his arm around her waist, as per usual, and Helena felt content with the world. She really did. Why wouldn't she? She belonged here. Right? Hadn't that been what she had said to Myka – Helena stopped that train of thought right there. Physically shaking her head slightly, she banished the forbidden thought from her consciousness, letting the darkness take her again.

Myka woke, her eyes snapping open as she lay stock still on the bed. Her nightmare faded from her memory too quickly for her to catch it, but she had a vague idea of its content. Her meeting with Helena earlier had definitely thrown her, to put it lightly. Pete, when they were in the SUV, leaving Helena in the delightful suburbs had asked her if she was alright. Of course Pete would pick up on it, she thought with a smile. He was her best friend. She assured him she was alright, that she was happy for Helena. Pete nodded and pretended he believed her, knowing that Myka would only break under scrutiny. Pete had known about her feelings for Helena before even she did. They never spoke about it, but it was there; some strange understanding. Myka groaned quietly, rolling over and curling into a ball, waiting for the light to pour in through the window so she could distract herself with work.

Helena was serving up breakfast for Adelaide as Nate hurried out the door, pausing to hug his daughter and give Helena a quick kiss, before disappearing. Helena smiled after him, before setting Adelaide's plate down in front of her and sitting opposite, tucking into her own breakfast.

"Emily?" said Adelaide after a few minutes of odd silence. Usually the pair could talk for hours, as they were both similar creatures but Helena would have found the silence odd – that is if she had noticed; her head buried in the newspaper that she wasn't really reading, lost in her thoughts.

"Yes, dear?" replied Helena, looking up at the girl, who was pursing her lips, as if attempting to work out how to phrase her inquiry.

"You still haven't explained why you said your name was Helena. And who those two 'agents' were yesterday." Helena froze, her breath catching in her throat. She had managed to talk her way around the whole HG-Wells-Time-Traveller thing. It turned out she couldn't bring herself to tell Nate the truth, so she invented yet another past life to hide behind so she could continue her delusion of normality. Truth was, since she had invited Myka back into her life, she was discovering that she wasn't as happy as she thought she was. It was hard enough to lie to Nate, but to lie to Adelaide, whom – as Myka rightly said – she was beginning to think of as perhaps her own daughter, just every now and then. Also, the girl was extremely intelligent, and Helena had only added to the girl's arsenal of mental weaponry to see through her lies.

"That is a very long story. And you need to go to school," she said, hoping that would be the end of it.

"The principal has already received an email saying I won't be expected in classes today," replied Adelaide with a smirk. Helena couldn't help but smile a little at the girl's determination.

"I highly doubt your father will be pleased to hear that."

"He doesn't have to know. Just like he doesn't have to know that you're lying again." Adelaide said this so casually that Helena was beginning to wonder just how devious this child was. Helena was slightly taken aback by her gall, and very impressed. Adelaide was sitting in her pyjamas, her arms folded defiantly – she would not be moved until she got the truth.

"You're clever, what do you think?" asked Helena. She knew that in her current confused state, she could still run rings around the girl, but she almost wanted the girl to work it out, just so that she could stop hiding. And so that she could admit it to herself.

"Well, I think my previous deductions were correct. You _have_ had adventures together. And you were very close, given the looks you two were sharing, and the awkwardness when she realised you were not alone, she looked a little crestfallen."

"Alright," Helena put down the paper and sat up, leaning forwards slightly towards the girl across the table. "I will tell you. You have to promise not to utter a word of this to your father."

"I promise," replied the girl, also leaning towards Helena, eager to hear the story.

Myka dragged herself out of bed and into the shower before anybody else would even think about getting up. If anyone was paying attention, they would have heard a slight sniff, perhaps a hint of a sob over the sound of the water running, but everyone else was asleep or too tired. And when she left the shower, wrapped in nothing but a towel, she passed Claudia, but the girl was too exhausted to notice Myka's slightly red eyes and tear tracks on her face. It was just run off from the shower, right? Myka dressed quickly in comfy clothes and drifted down the stairs. That's what she felt like she had been doing for months, ever since Helena's departure. Just drifting, burying her head in work, in the Warehouse, and letting it fill the hole she felt in her heart. Upon entering the kitchen, she expected an empty room, and so was a little startled to see Abigail Cho standing over the stove. The therapist turned when she heard the agent approach, both women getting a small fright.

"I'm sorry, I just wanted a decent breakfast, and since nobody was volunteering yesterday, I took it upon myself to make sure nobody keeled over during a potential disaster like the one yesterday," Abigail smiled as she flipped a pancake. Myka poured herself a cup of coffee and sat on the counter.

"That's very kind of you. Would you like a hand?" she asked, taking a sip of the coffee.

"I'm fine for the moment, Agent Bering, thank you," the therapist said warmly. Myka sensed that she was still unsure of her place in the Warehouse family.

"Myka, please," replied Myka with a smile. "You're Abigail, right?" The pair hadn't had a lot of time to talk before, what with everything that had been going on. And Abigail might need someone to quiz on the intricacies of the Warehouse, though her and Claudia had been talking since Abigail had helped the young techie through the issues of the previous day.

"Yes, I am." Abigail picked up the plate stacked high with pancakes and put it on the table, where five places had been set out. "Could you get the bacon and sausages, please?" she asked, gesturing to the other plates next to the stove. Myka retrieved them and set them in the middle. The pair sat down opposite each other and began to eat. Myka hadn't noticed how hungry she had been until now. As she chugged down a glass of orange juice, Abigail began to speak.

"Myka, may I ask something?" Myka caught the tone immediately. This would be a personal question.

"Of course," she replied cautiously, setting the glass back down with slightly trembling fingers.

"What were you upset about this morning?" she asked, her gaze slightly concerned as she tilted her head ever so slightly to the side. Myka got the feeling she was being read, and became defensive.

"That's a complicated and long story," she said, attempting a smile that she knew Abigail saw right through.

"You don't have to tell me. I am here to help though." When Myka was silent for a while, Abigail leaned back in her chair. "May I voice my thoughts on this?" she asked. Myka, who couldn't even begin to talk about it, as she had been burying her feelings and denying their existence for so long, discovered she really wanted help. She wanted to talk about it with someone – it was eating her up inside. Only she didn't know how. Taking her silence as a sign of confliction and uncertainty, but her more relaxed posture and her decision to stay at the table, Abigail began her analysis.

"Myka, as you know, I have some experience in the field of psychotherapy. And I couldn't help but notice your reaction to the phone call you received yesterday, from… Helena, I think it was." Myka nodded. Abigail continued: "You looked surprised, well, more shocked, but in a happy way. Like it was something you had been waiting for. But there was also pain there. You didn't leave things on very good terms, and – given what Claudia has told me – this Helena just upped and left. The way that the others avoid talking about her when you're in the room makes me think there was something there, a very deep connection." Abigail smiled. "Am I close?"

"So, you're HG Wells, the author?" asked Adelaide, her eyes alight with wonder. Helena loved children this age. They were old enough to understand, but young enough to believe her story. And Adelaide was intelligent enough to know that Helena wasn't lying.

"Yes."

"You wrote _The Time Machine_?" Helena laughed at the girl's excitement.

"Yes, I did." Helena had told the girl the whole story, just because she needed someone to talk about it with. Everything she had been through; and she couldn't talk about it. She had to pretend to be someone else. It killed her; to act like an ordinary person. Myka was right, she realised. This wasn't her.

"And you really nearly caused an Ice Age?"

"Yes, that was not one of my better moments." Helena had expected the girl to be fearful of her at this point of the story, but Adelaide just accepted it like every other incredible thing Helena said. The only thing Helena left out was Christina. She didn't want Abigail to know about that part of her life. She also hadn't mentioned Myka all that much. She had told the story, but not included the emotional depth. But Abigail was very clever. Helena had a hunch she had worked it out.

"And this Myka Bering stopped you," Abigail stated. Helena nodded, praying that the child didn't ask her the dreaded question.

"Why? You seemed pretty determined. How could one woman stop you?" Helena internally damned the fates as she looked down for a moment, gathering her thoughts. Adelaide and Helena had moved from the table to sit in the living room on the sofa, Adelaide sitting cross legged on one end, Helena sitting comfortably at the other, facing each other. She didn't want Adelaide to hate her for not loving her father. She really liked him, and he was good to her. But he wasn't Myka. Nobody could top Myka.

"You love her," stated Adelaide, the cogs turning in her head as she worked it out. Helena looked up slowly, expecting to see the child angry or upset, but Abigail just sat patiently, waiting for confirmation.

"Yes," said Helena simply. Adelaide had an impish grin on her face. "What are you smirking at?"

"I knew it," she said, her smile growing larger.

"I'm sorry, Adelaide, about your father and I-"

"Helena, it's alright. You taught me a lot and you came after me when I needed you. And I want you to be happy. It doesn't take a genius to see that you aren't happy with your current predicament."

"You're a very special child," smiled Helena, drawing the young girl close into a hug. What Adelaide did not see was Helena's eyes tearing up slightly, her smile falling from her face as she realised. She could not do this any longer. She couldn't run from her truth.

"Spot on," said Myka, with fake cheeriness. Inside, she just wanted to run and hide. With a little look from Abigail, Myka finally let it all out; pouring forth all her feelings onto the one person she knew would listen and understand.

"I see," replied Abigail when Myka finished her story. She sounded completely neutral, no judgement, no advice. Her job was to listen to a person and guide them to their own solutions. "I'm sorry for how things turned out."

"So am I," sighed Myka. She felt emotionally exhausted after her offload onto Abigail, but she felt a little better. Just a little. Myka managed a small, genuine smile to Abigail who was looking at her with sympathy, but not pity.

"So why did you let her go?" asked Abigail. Abigail had expected Myka to have a lot to say, but the way she spoke about Helena made her realise that Myka – who had never really opened up to anyone – had been through a lot, and had a lot going on in her head. The agent had buried it deep enough to hide from everyone else for so long, perhaps she didn't even know how to talk about it with anyone else.

"I…" Myka took a moment to collect her thoughts and feelings before replying. "It was better for her. She deserves to be happy, and if she's happy with a normal life, who am I to argue?"

"But you said that it wasn't like her," said Abigail with a frown. Myka considered this fact for a second.

"Well, the HG I know wouldn't be happy with such a normal existence."


	2. Chapter 2

Author's note: Thanks for all the lovely reviews, I'm glad people like this. I hope you enjoy the series and please feel free to tell me what you think. All the mistakes are mine - it was written late at night while I was exhausted - and again, I hope you enjoy :)

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Helena lay in bed for what seemed like years, tossing and turning in an attempt to find comfort, but she was restless. Eventually, she slipped out of bed and crept downstairs. Passing Adelaide's room, she paused and a small smile crept onto her face, before she continued. Her light footsteps made barely a sound and soon she was sitting on the couch. Reluctant to risk waking the others by switching on the television, she decided to scour the bookshelf for a decent read. Her finger brushed lightly over the spines of the books, until she froze, her finger resting on the copy of _The Time Machine._ A gasp escaped her lips as a memory resurfaced, after months of suppression.

_Helena crept down the stairs of the B&B, hoping not to wake any of Leena's residents. It was very late at night, or very early in the morning depending on personal view. Her bare feet padded across the wooden floor, a couple of creaks sounded from the stairs. Her tank top and shorts did little to prevent the cool air from washing over her, a gentle chill coursing over her skin. Not that she minded; her room was much too warm for her liking. Walking slightly faster, she arrived in the living room, where she saw a tired but content looking Myka Bering sitting on the couch, book in hand. Helena stopped in the doorway and paused just to look at her friend; the way her dark curls fell over her shoulders, her hand gently caressing the page absent-mindedly as she chewed on one of these 'Twizzlers' she was so fond of. Helena also noticed that Myka's face was stretched into a lovely smile that she had never seen before. It was almost doting, incredibly fond and incredibly loving. It took Helena a few minutes to fully realise she had been staring at the agent, so she cleared her throat a little louder than necessary. Myka's head whipped around, her curls flying, her green eyes alert. When her gaze fell on Helena in the doorway, her frown settled into a gentle smile._

"_Sorry to startle you, darling," said Helena quietly, returning the smile fondly._

"_It's fine. Why are you up at this time of night?" asked the agent curiously as she placed her bookmark into the pages and put the book on the sofa cushions next to her. _

"_I had trouble sleeping," replied Helena vaguely. The real reason was that she still struggled to sleep in the darkness on her own. Nightmares of her time in the bronzer still plagued her after all this time. A handful of times she had woken up screaming and crying, only to feel a warm embrace around her, the scent of Myka enveloping her. She immediately associated it with comfort, and she would sometimes fall into a peaceful, dreamless sleep with Myka's arms still wrapped around her. Other times, she the nightmares would return, but fade as soon as she felt Myka's grasp tighten a little around her, letting her know unconsciously that she was still there for her. _

_Helena snapped out of her little reverie when Myka patted the sofa beside her. Helena obediently sat, a little closer than was necessary. She noticed Myka was similarly clad in her sleeping clothes, her bare legs covered by a fluffy blanket. She also noticed that Myka ever so casually slipped the book under the blanket._

"_What about you?" asked Helena, a slight smirk forming on her face. _

"_Pretty much the same," she replied, though she was loathe to confide in the Victorian that it was complicated thoughts about their relationship keeping her from sleep. _

"_What are you reading?" asked Helena, curiosity getting the better of her. Myka looked a little embarrassed as she replied cryptically:_

"_A book," her emerald eyes sparkling as the faint blush crept into her cheeks._

"_My Lord, a book! Who would have thought?" retorted Helena, sarcasm dripping from her words. Myka rolled her eyes and laughed, playfully smacking Helena's leg._

"_Yes, a book!"_

"_And what, pray tell, is the title of this book?" asked Helena. When Myka shook her head, Helena grinned and leaned over Myka's body, reaching for the far corner of the sofa. _

"_What are you doing?" asked Myka, a tad sharply. Helena realised how close she was to Myka, her arm stretched over her legs, Helena's face inches from Myka's. _

"_I'm curious as to what genius of literature made you smile so fondly," replied Helena. She couldn't quite suppress the jealousy in her voice. She was, after all, a writer, and she wanted Myka to love her works the most. Childish, yes, but Helena couldn't help it. Helena reached closer and Myka shifted so now she was lying on the book._

"_Curiosity killed the cat," Myka quoted, looking up at Helena, who had basically crawled on top of Myka. Both women were attempting – badly – to not notice the physical closeness. _

"_Do you plan on killing me, darling?" asked Helena, her voice low and sultry. _

"_If you don't get off me, I might," she replied with a small, almost nervous laugh. Helena suddenly found herself staring into emerald orbs, and they were staring back. For a moment, she considered the implications if she were to… _

"_No," she whispered, not realising she had spoken aloud._

"_What was that?" asked Myka. _

"_Nothing, darling," she replied, leaning back a bit. Taking a shaky breath, she let out a laugh and climbed off of Myka, who looked a little sad, if truth be told. But Helena could just be imagining it. She tried to ignore the loss she felt in her heart as she pulled back, sitting with her legs tucked into her chest, like a wall to hide behind. _

"_You really want to know?" asked Myka, running a hand through her curls as if trying to collect herself. Helena nodded and Myka smiled that 'dorky' smile, or at least that's what Claudia called it. Myka reached under the blanket and handed the tome to Helena, not looking at the Victorian. Helena took it, resigning herself to the fact that she was being very immature in not liking whoever wrote this, simply because it wasn't her. However, with a quick glance over the cover, her face broke out into a wide, genuine smile. Oh, she knew this author intimately. _

"_The Time Machine. Really, Myka?" she asked, looking at the bashful agent, who was finding great interest in a loose thread in the blanket. _

"_It's always been my favourite," she said, shrugging. Helena couldn't stop the tears that formed in her eyes at this. "Helena, are you alright?" asked Myka, concerned._

"_Yes darling. I'm just… touched," she replied, refusing to let tears fall. "It's been a while since I've read this," she said as she read over the blurb. After a moment, Myka spoke:_

"_Would you like to? I know it basically by heart," she said, blushing again."… And I'm only a few chapters in, I don't mind starting again." Helena paused for a moment, but when she opened her mouth to speak, Myka cut her off. "Or, you know, you could just read it yourself, that's probably better, I was just wondering in case you wanted to-" Helena was a little lost before she worked it out. _

"_Myka," she said, stopping Myka's rambling before it went too far. "You're babbling, and of course I don't mind reading it with you. It's lovely to finally be appreciated for my works." Myka smiled – blushed – yet again and lifted up the edge of the blanket. Helena scrambled over and settled herself next to her friend as the agent opened the book at the start. _

"_Just say when you want the page turned," said Myka. _

"_Certainly," replied Helena, snuggling slightly into Myka's shoulder._

_When Helena woke to the sound of gentle birdsong from outside, the golden sunlight pouring through the windows, she felt a foreign warmth beside her. Turning a tad awkwardly – as there was a weight on her – her eyes fell on the sleeping Myka beside her. _The Time Machine_ lay discarded on the sofa, precariously close to the edge, and Myka was lying on her side across the sofa cushions. Helena found herself to be beside – mostly on top – of her friend, her arm draped over Myka's waist, Myka's arm around her shoulders. The blanket trapped her in a cocoon of warmth. Sighing happily, she laid her head on Myka's shoulder, nuzzling her neck, trying to remember when she'd last been this peaceful._

Helena snapped out of her daze, taking a few steps back as if attempting to physically distance herself from the memory. Myka seemed to be everywhere around her – she saw the agent in almost everything she did. When she was at work, there was her co-worker with the long, curly brown hair that looked like Myka from certain angles, except she permanently wore glasses. She was a lovely woman, but every time Helena saw her, she both hoped and feared that it was Myka. She would get this rush in her heart, but then she would turn around, and it was gone. No, enough was enough, she decided. She had been playing at being Emily Lake for too long now. Myka was right, as always. She had to stop running. Not even caring that it was the middle of the night, she padded into the kitchen and found her coat on the hangar just outside of the door in the hallway, grabbing her phone and dialling the one number she knew off by heart. Placing the phone to her ear, she found she couldn't be still, pacing anxiously between rooms as the phone continued to ring at the other end.


	3. Chapter 3

Hello again, this was done very quickly, but I hope you enjoy it. All the mistakes are mine and thank you for all the wonderful comments :)

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Myka Bering sat on her bed, her eyes traversing the page in front of her as a tear splashed onto the well-worn paper. It had been a while since she had seen Helena in Boone. She knew she shouldn't have just let her go, but what else could she do. If Helena had the chance to be happy, then Myka would be the last person to stand in the way. _But she's not happy, and you know it, _said the little voice in the back of her head, that same voice that she fought constantly otherwise she'd call Helena and she couldn't. She couldn't ruin Helena's happiness. Even if it hindered her own. In her mind, she sometimes thought that their relationship was, at its most basic level, the two women constantly sacrificing themselves and their own emotional stability for the good of the other. Helena had planned everything; she could have destroyed the world with one more blow from the trident. But Myka stood in the way. She told herself at the time that Helena couldn't do it because Myka was her friend. She couldn't dare believe it was anything more. Then Helena coming back as a hologram. Helena was constantly doing everything to keep her and the team alive. She knew something had happened with the astrolabe – she didn't know what, but she had this… feeling. She convinced herself that Helena had stayed away to protect them, and she would be able to return eventually. Now, she was furious that the Victorian had been playing happy families in the suburbs with a pseudo-daughter and some 'normal, kind' man. But then Myka knew she was only angry because Helena didn't seem to be able to be happy with her. Nate and Adelaide were probably lovely, but Myka didn't care to find out. So she dug deep and buried her feelings while Helena harped on and on about how Nate was perfect, how she wanted a new life, a normal life. _Bullshit,_ was Myka's silent response, and she hoped it hadn't shown on her face. If so, Helena didn't mention it. When Myka had returned home after their promises of coffee and saving the world, she bid Pete goodnight without eating. She had a feeling that Pete knew exactly what was up with her – he had probably known about her feelings before even she did – but he left her to it, knowing she'd need time to process. As soon as she had shut the door to her bedroom, she collapsed to the floor, back against the uncomfortable wooden door and buried her head in her knees, sobbing her heart out. She didn't' really know exactly how or when she ended up on her bed, but she remembered a voice that sounded a lot like Claudia's and another, Abigail's, around her after an hour or so, speaking softly and arms wrapping around hers and guiding her towards the bed.

Sighing heavily, Myka wrenched her thoughts from the past and tried again to focus on her book.

"I went to a box room at the top of the house and locked myself in, in order to be alone with my aching miseries."

Myka literally rolled her eyes at the irony of this line she had reread over and over as she thought about the memory. Sighing, she closed the book, lightly tracing the name "HG Wells" on the cover, then rolled over, placing the book on the table and switching off her lamp, settling down to try and sleep.

Myka jolted awake to a foreign sound, eyes snapping open as her body tensed, ready to fight. She felt a little dizzy as she squinted in the darkness, but it passed quickly. Her head cleared and she realised that it was her phone. Scrabbling at the lamp, she flicked it on as she crawled across her bed less than gracefully, cursing softly as her foot tangled in her sheets. Finally, she lumbered across the room, hoping she hadn't missed the call. Snagging the phone from her jeans pocket, she accepted the call without looking at the caller ID, her mind still clouded by sleep.

"Hello?" she said croakily.

"Myka?" came the reply.

With every ring, Helena grew more nervous. She was used to being completely in control of herself and the situation. Never before had she felt so lost, so dependent on somebody else. She needed Myka. And this scared her to no end. Eventually, after a minute of ringing she lost her nerve and hung up. Glancing at the clock, she saw it was ten past three in the morning. Sighing, she returned to the living room, where she picked up the copy of _The Time Machine _and settled down to read, finding some comfort in the memories the book held for her. She was quite prepared to read herself to sleep, much as she had done the last time, except she knew she would wake up alone.

"Oh, hey, Mum, what're you calling at this time for?" she asked, glancing at the clock on her phone. It read seven minutes past five in the morning. She also noticed she had a missed call. "Are you okay? Is Dad alright?" she asked hurriedly.

"Yes, yes, we're fine. It's just…" her mother paused. Myka waited patiently. "Well, Pete called earlier. He was worried about you."

"Mum, I'm alright. I was just exhausted last night. It was a long day."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm fine."

"You'll tell me if something's up, you know you can talk to me."

"I know, Mum."

"So how's work?" she asked. It had been ages since they had spoken, and Myka felt reluctant to hang up.

"It's good. Busy. I have a physical coming up, but it should be fine."

"Next time you're in Colorado, you come see us, okay?" her mother said. Myka smiled, and her mother could hear it in her voice.

"Of course I will."

"And be careful, honey."

"I will," she said, rolling her eyes, but grinning.

"Good. Or I'll have to call Artie and have a word."

"Don't worry, I'll be fine. I'll call you soon, okay?"

"Okay, honey. Love you."

"Love you too. Tell Dad I said hi."

"I will. Sorry for waking you."

"Its fine," laughed Myka as her mother hung up the phone. She sat back on her bed and smiled. Talking with her mother, even about such simple things made her feel so much better. Glancing across the room, she considered getting back in bed but she was wide awake now. She may as well go downstairs and make a start on breakfast so that Abigail could have a day off. The therapist had been coerced into making breakfast by Pete and Claudia after she lost the thumb war to decide. Initially, she grumbled about it, but she didn't mind too much. She and Myka were usually the first up so they helped each other. Sometimes they chatted; sometimes they delved a little deeper into each other's pasts and secrets, but they were the 'adults' of the group, along with Artie, so they looked after their 'children'. Choosing to dress later, she clambered over the bed, grabbing a fleece to cover her bare arms and silently slipped down the stairs, phone still in hand. Upon entering the kitchen, she could see the first light of morning through the curtains. Settling on a stool and leaning on the kitchen counter, she glanced at the number of the missed call on her phone. It wasn't one she recognised. Contemplating whether or not to call it, she decided it was probably important if they called in the middle of the night. Taking a breath, she pressed the call button and put the phone to her ear. It rang. And rang. And continued to ring for over a minute. Just as she was about to hang up, she heard a voice answer it.

"Hello?" It was a child's voice, a girl's by the sound of it.

"Hello?" replied Myka, confused. "Who is this?"

"You called, you should know," came the reply. Myka had a feeling she knew this voice, but couldn't quite place it.

"I was called in the middle of the night, I missed it. Who is this?" she reiterated. She had a feeling it was a prank.

"Hang on. Are you Myka Bering?" the girl asked.

"Yes," she replied after a moment, recognising the lilt and rhythm of the voice at last. "You're Adelaide."

"Yes. Are you looking for Helena?" asked the girl.

"I was wondering who called me so early, and why – Wait. You called her Helena?"

"Yes. She told me all about her adventures in the Warehouse. 12 and 13. She mentioned you a lot. She didn't tell Dad though, and she made me promise to tell no-one else anything about it."

Myka couldn't suppress the smile at one particular piece of information.

"Do you have any idea why she would call me at two in the morning?" she asked, beating her fingers off of the edge of the counter.

"I would hazard a guess that she missed you. If it were work, she would have called you during the day. I would assume she was awake at that time and thinking about you, so she called," said Adelaide calmly and patiently, as if explaining a simple mathematical problem. Myka was slightly taken aback.

"Listen, Adelaide, I'm sorry-"

"Don't apologise, please. I can tell Helena isn't happy here. And I want her to be happy, she deserves it."

"You're a very special child," smiled Myka.

"So I've been told," replied the girl, and Myka could hear the smile in her voice. Myka suddenly heard another voice in the background. It sounded hauntingly British.

On the other end of the call, Helena had woken up on the couch; a blanket covering her, the book lying on the floor and the sound of Adelaide's soft voice from the other side of the room.

"Adelaide?" she said huskily, rubbing her head. She didn't remember the blanket being over her when she fell asleep, so she deduced that Adelaide had covered her, and fairly recently, as the temperature of the blanket was still rather cool. Adelaide turned at Helena's call and gave her a small smile. "What are you doing?" she asked.

"The phone was ringing. I came down for a glass of water and I didn't want it to wake you."

"The phone?" repeated Helena, sitting up straight and throwing the blanket off of her.

"Yes," replied Adelaide, holding up the device. Helena could hear a person one the other end.

"Who is it?" she asked, sounding terrified. But she also felt joy and hope blossom through the fear. Myka. The main source of conflict for Helena. She tried not to get her hopes up. It might not be her. She couldn't think who else it would be though. Adelaide mouthed the word "Myka" and Helena felt her heart begin to race. There must have been a visible change on her face, as Adelaide mouthed at her not to worry.

"Would you like to talk to her?" asked Adelaide. Helena sat on the edge of the sofa, wringing her hands absent-mindedly. A moment later, Adelaide held out the phone.

"Only if you want to," she said quietly. Helena nodded and took the phone. Adelaide smiled and gave Helena's arm a squeeze before picking up her glass and leaving the room, waiting in the kitchen. She was also a nosy child, so she stayed within hearing distance.

Myka sat stock still as Adelaide handed over the phone. After a moment, she heard breathing on the other end of the line. Neither woman spoke for a moment.

"Hi."

"Hello." Both words were uttered at the same time, and led to a little awkward laughter, then yet more silence.

"Myka –"

"Why did you call?" asked Myka, not caring that she cut Helena off. She could feel anger cutting through her joy at hearing Helena's voice again.

"I…" Helena found that words had deserted her. The great HG Wells, wordsmith and author, could not think of words to say. Myka waited, her nails tapping against the counter, biting her lip. The silence stretched on and on. Myka still said nothing.

"I was wondering… if… perhaps you'd like to get that coffee we talked about?" said Helena, internally cursing herself. She simply couldn't say what she had to over the phone. She didn't even know if she could say it to her face.

"Uhm…" Myka wasn't sure exactly what she was expecting. "Sure," she replied slowly.

"Excellent," said Helena, after several of what Claudia would call 'facepalms' of frustration at her lack of skill in this area.

"You want me to go there… or are you coming here, or what?" asked Myka, still slightly confused and feeling out of her depth.

"Whatever is better for you," replied Helena. She had put this woman through too much to allow her to go through any more trouble for her convenience.

"I'm easy either way," shrugged Myka.

"I'll come there?"

"If that's not too much trouble," replied Myka, somewhat flatly. She had wanted more than just some awkward conversation about coffee. And she was tired of Helena playing with her, toying with her. So she shut down a little bit.

"Alright. Are you free today?" asked Helena. As soon as she said it, she wondered if she was asking too much too soon.

"Yes," said Myka. Claudia and Pete were on for the next ping, and Pete could go with Artie if there was another. It was her week to man the Warehouse anyway.

Helena sensed the tone, and knew that Myka was not happy.

"I'll… I'll see you later today at the B&B, then?" she asked, ashamed of herself for sounding so lost and pitiful.

"Sounds good. See you then," Myka replied, almost coldly. They both listened to the other breathing for a moment, before Myka hung up. This was going to be a fantastic day, she thought sarcastically.


	4. Chapter 4

Hello again, sorry for the wait. This chapter is a tad long, I think, but bear with it :) Thanks to everyone who reads these and the lovely people who comment, and reviews are always welcome. All mistakes are mine, and I apologise for them.

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Myka sat in the living room. Then she paced. Then she wandered into the kitchen where the others were eating, having finally dragged themselves out of their beds. Abigail knew what was up with Myka; they had talked while making breakfast. But the others were growing anxious at the restlessness of the agent.

"Mykes, for Pete's sake, what's up?" demanded Claudia through a mouthful of pancakes.

"What's wrong with me?" asked Pete curiously, only just tuning into the conversation. Claudia rolled her eyes and hit the man next to her on the shoulder while she continued chewing.

"Hey! You've been spending too much time with Myka!" he exclaimed. Steve and Abigail looked on with amusement, but Myka took no notice; she simply bounced from the counter over to the table, hovering behind Steve for a moment before she snatched a syrup covered pancake from Pete's plate and stuffed it in her mouth, all the while playing absent-mindedly with a lock of curls. She did not appear to have heard.

"Myka!" called Claudia again. Myka stopped and looked over, mouth chewing fervently, eyebrows raised in question. "What's got you nervy this morning?"

"I'm not nervous, don't be ridiculous," said Myka, crossing her arms a little defensively over her chest, her right hand still clutching the half eaten pancake close to her face.

"You're eating sugar," commented Claudia with her eyes slightly narrowed.

"Not sugar. Syrup," she corrected, resuming her pacing, left arm still across her chest.

"Mykes, what's wrong?" asked Pete, concerned as he looked over his shoulder at the distressed agent.

"Nothing," she replied, much too quickly. Claudia glanced at Steve, who was looking at Myka with eyebrows furrowed, about to open his mouth. Now Steve had a choice here. Myka was glaring at him, telling him with her eyes that if he said his favourite word, she would kill him. But he had to spend the whole day with Claudia, and he was a terrible liar. On previous occasions he had lied and Claudia had found some way to make him suffer for it, especially on inventory duty.

"Liar," he said quietly, looking pointedly at his food and nowhere else. Myka narrowed her eyes as Steve glanced up and silently apologised.

"Ha! Spill, Bering!" said Claudia triumphantly, leaning forwards on the table with her elbows, a cup of coffee grasped in her hands. Myka glanced around the table. All eyes were on her. The emerald orbs darted to the door, but Pete had already moved to block the portal to her freedom. Turning, she looked pleadingly at Abigail, who just shrugged.

"Alright," she sighed, slumping into Pete's empty chair. Everyone leaned forwards, Pete clutching the back of her chair. "Helena called last night-"

"What?" yelled Claudia and Pete, while Steve's eyebrows rose in surprise.

"What did she want? Is there another artefact?" asked Pete, while Claudia simultaneously babbled: "Oh my God, is she okay? What did she say? Are you pissed at her?"

"Guys, let her speak!" said Steve, noticing Myka's lack of energy to stop them both. Claudia and Pete were silenced.

"She called at two in the morning and I missed it. I called her back earlier this morning. She's coming by today to… to talk," Myka explained.

"Why would she call at two?" asked Pete. He had shockingly abandoned his plate of food, giving his full attention to Myka.

"Adelaide answered the phone in the morning before handing it over to Helena, but she said she reckoned it was because she… missed me," said Myka quietly, staring into the cup of coffee in front of her.

"When is she coming?" asked Claudia quietly. While she desperately missed the inventor, Claudia was super pissed at HG for just leaving them, but also toying with Myka. While she had great respect and admiration for HG, she wouldn't let her do that again. Not to Myka.

"Sometime in the afternoon, I guess."

"And how do you feel about that?" asked Pete. For the first time, Myka laughed.

"I thought that was Abigail's line," she smirked. Pete smiled, glad that Myka was still laughing. He was angry at Helena for screwing around with Myka's heart like she had, whether she realised she was doing it or not. When he had said "I'm counting on you," he had really meant to come through for Myka. He had held his tongue for Myka's sake, but if Helena screwed with Myka's head again, he would do what he could to protect his friend. He knew Helena loved her, but made bad choices. Reaching down, he hugged Myka tightly, and was not surprised when she tried to slap him away, but was laughing. He held on tighter, and soon Claudia joined in, dragging Steve with her.

"You too, Abigail, if I have to do this, you aren't escaping," called Steve. Abigail joined in, an arm around Claudia, the other around Pete. She finally felt accepted.

There was a knock at the door, and Myka froze. She began to pry herself off of her bed, where she'd found sanctuary. If she'd stayed in the living room, she'd pace relentlessly between the door and the window. So she shut herself in her room to try and find solace from her restless mind. The others had left a few hours previously to go to the Warehouse. Artie knew that Helena was coming; Myka had informed him over the phone. He grudgingly let her have the day off, knowing that Myka needed this. He just hoped that Helena didn't hurt her again; otherwise he may have reached the end of his tether with her. Sure, she sacrificed herself to save the Warehouse, but he was extremely protective over his little Warehouse family. Anyone who messed with them; messed with him. And he did _not _like to be messed with. Emerging on the landing, she heard Abigail open the door.

Helena paused just before she knocked on the door. She glanced back at her car that she'd parked in the space next to the SUV. A tiny part of her considered jumping back in and running away again. She immediately scolded herself, took a steadying breath and knocked on the door. After a few seconds she saw a figure moving about behind the door. Her heart began to race as the door handle turned and it opened. Helena plastered a dazzling smile on her face, only to meet an unfamiliar face.

"You must be Helena," the stranger said kindly. Helena's eyebrows rose a little in surprise as she searched her memory for the identity of this woman, and how she would know her.

"Yes," she said slowly, momentarily rattled. Her confidence was on shaky ground already and she hadn't even seen Myka yet. "I don't believe we have met."

"Oh, yes, of course," smiled the woman. "I'm Abigail Cho. I'm the new owner of the B&B," she said, holding out her hand.

"Helena Wells," she replied, shaking the woman's hand, unsure of how much she knew. This Abigail seemed to be appraising her, watching her closely for a moment. Helena felt a flash of vulnerability.

"Won't you come in?" Abigail said politely, standing to the side. Helena smiled as she entered the familiar building, inhaling the wonderfully welcome smell she had grown so used to in her time here. But she no longer lived here, and felt incredibly awkward as she stood in the hallway. Everything seemed the same, a few new pictures around the walls, but still basically the same. Abigail gestured to take Helena's coat, and Helena handed her the dark material.

"Myka's upstairs. She's just coming. Don't be so nervous," smiled Abigail, placing a hand of comfort on Helena's upper arm for a moment as she passed her, heading into the kitchen. The touch, while not unwelcome, surprised her. This woman seemed to be completely at home here. The agents had clearly given her a proper welcome, one that she – deservedly – had missed out on. Helena felt restless and found interest in one of the new pictures; a beautiful photograph of a mountain as the sun rose behind it. It had been captured just at the right time with astounding quality. The stairs creaked behind her. She felt her heartbeat quicken and stomach lurch as she turned, and her eyes fell upon Myka, standing three steps from the bottom of the staircase, dressed casually in her jeans and blue t-shirt, and a pair of adorable fluffy purple socks. Helena felt a genuine, warm smile grace her face for the first time in ages. Myka seemed frozen in place for a few seconds, before she came back to reality, physically shaking her head a little to clear her head.

"Helena," she nodded, walking down the last few steps and pausing a few feet from Helena.

"Myka, replied Helena in the same tone. This was ridiculous; she was the silver-tongued, witty 'father' of science fiction! Wordsmith, author, storyteller; all of these involved her best skill, the manipulation of just the right words in the right way to create emotion and feeling. SO why was it that when she needed her skill, her wit, her charm the most, it deserted her as quickly as the sea retreating from the shore?

After a moment of awkward glances and silence, Myka gestured to the living room. Helena walked obediently through the door, her heels clacking against the wooden floor. She sat on the couch, on the side closest to the hallway. Myka remained standing for a moment.

"Can I get you a drink, or something to eat? You must've had a long drive," Myka inquired.

"I couldn't trouble you for some tea?" Helena asked. Myka smiled, huffing a small laugh at the familiarity of Helena and her tea, and turned to leave the room. Helena settled herself comfortably, feeling a little more relaxed. She heard Abigail's voice say something to Myka.

"Abigail bought more scones this morning, do you want one?" called Myka, poking her head through the door way.

"Surely having tea _and _scones is a little too stereotypical?" she said, attempting a joke. It worked as Myka did her 'dork' smile as Claudia called it before. "But yes, I'd love some," smiled Helena. Myka nodded and went back to the kitchen. Helena could feel her nerves fading a little as she sat, waiting for her tea. Honestly, she was exhausted – it was a long drive and she had been too nervous to even contemplate eating, surviving only on tea and water. She didn't realise how hungry she was until she had entered the B&B and could smell the remnants of breakfast, the aroma lingering in the air.

"Tea and scones," said Myka as she skidded into the living room on her slippery socks, sliding gracefully across the floor, coming to a halt next to Helena as she placed the tea on the table and the plate of scones next to it. Helena couldn't suppress her smile any more than she could stop her heart racing in such close proximity to Myka. Myka slid over to the other side of the couch and sat, curling her knees underneath her. She seemed a lot more comfortable than Helena was. Helena was torn between being 'proper' as was her habit, and stuffing her face with one of the scones. Myka had halved them so there were six pieces. After a single sip of her tea, she reached out and took one, taking a large bite and sighing happily as she ate at last. Out of the corner of her eye as she took her second bite, she paused; Myka was smirking.

"What?" she asked with as much dignity as she could muster with her mouth full of scone.

"Hungry?" asked Myka sarcastically with a smile.

"It was a long drive," defended Helena. Myka noticed a crumb on her cheek. She motioned to Helena.

"You have a little…" she said, pointing. Helena swallowed and scoffed the rest of it, then attempted to gracefully wipe her mouth. She failed. "It's still there," laughed Myka, nibbling at her own half.

Helena tried again. Myka's repressed giggles informed her it was still there.

"Here," said Myka, reaching forwards to brush it away. Helena froze for barely a moment at her touch, just as Myka did the same. Myka withdrew quickly, a slightly smaller smile plastered on her face. There was a moment of silence. When Myka realised that Helena was not going to be the first to talk, she took control.

"So, uhm, why did you phone me? At two am?" Myka asked carefully, gauging Helena's reaction with scrutinising eyes.

"Ah," said Helena, setting the cup of tea on the table. Her hand found its way to her neck. Myka recognised this as a sign of Helena's discomfort. "I… missed you."

"I missed you too," replied Myka. Helena was a little envious of Myka's comfort in this situation – the woman was sitting cross legged on the sofa cushion, a mug of tea clutched in her hands. Myka waited patiently for Helena to continue. To be perfectly honest, she wanted Helena to suffer this awkwardness that had inflicted her. She felt it was deserved after what Helena had put her through.

"Myka, I wanted to apologise," Helena began after gathering her thoughts. Myka smiled.

"Go on," she replied.

"You were right. I was trying to run away, chasing ghosts of the distant past. You were right about everything; Adelaide, Nate, everything." Helena refused to look her in the eye. "And I'm sorry I put you through that." She took a breath before continuing. "I told Adelaide everything. I had to – Don't worry, she promised not to say a word to anyone, and I believe she won't." Helena cut off Myka before the brunette could protest.

"What about Nate?" asked Myka quietly.

"Ah," she said again. Her hand went to her neck. "We… Nate's…" She tried to calculate the right words. "When I said Nate was normal and kind, I really meant it. He was lovely, and he… he and Adelaide represented the ideal life, a life I had been forced to miss out on."

Each word was like a crushing blow to Myka, and though she was positive her warm smile didn't falter, she could see that Helena knew her inner turmoil.

"I owed it to myself to try, Myka. I thought… I thought that if I could make that work, it would be better for everyone. I would never again be tempted to destroy the world; I would no longer be a threat to Claudia, or Pete or… you. I thought you'd be better off without me."

"Helena –" started Myka as Helena looked down at her lap, but the Victorian's eyes snapped to hers, cutting her off again.

"Myka, what I did to you was unforgivable. I betrayed your trust, manipulated you, nearly killed you! And yet, after all of that, you still believed in me. Even in that blasted Regent Sanctum, you trusted me to get you out of the lock!" Myka's heart bled as Helena's voice grew steadily more emotional, her tone rising rapidly, the walls she had built up so well over time were crumbling down around her. "And I thought, if there was any way to even attempt to make up for what I did, I would do it. I would have happily died for you!" Helena's voice faltered as she looked down, one hand wiping her eye gently, the other supporting her on the sofa as she leaned away from Myka, hiding her face. Myka, completely taken aback by Helena's vulnerability and honesty, felt a wave of overwhelming sympathy wash over her. Gently, she set her mug down and reached for Helena's hand. Warm flesh came into contact and Myka's heart beat rapidly against her ribs. Helena froze momentarily, but the action seemed to strengthen her. Helena looked back up at Myka, her eyes watering slightly, a look of pure helplessness on her face, before it flickered and was gone. Helena was back in control of herself.

"I thought that a soul as pure and good as yours would only be tainted by one as black as mine. And I didn't want to hurt you anymore. I thought if I could erase myself from your life, and you from mine, then we could carry on. And I had my dream life, my easy life. But… it was empty. I missed the adventures, the Warehouse, I missed you. And every day I would dream that something would bring you out to Boone, some artefact would pop up and you'd have to be there. I never thought it would really happen. You couldn't imagine my excitement when that young man appeared in the station. I had a legitimate reason to call you, to see you."

"You could have just phoned for… I don't know, coffee or something," interjected Myka, hand still clasped around Helena's.

"I wanted to. But I could never muster the courage to do it. If you had said no, if you were angry with me, I'd have-"

"I _was_ angry. I understand that you had to leave with the astrolabe, but after that had all been sorted, I expected you to come back. I expected you to return to your home, your family. But you ran off." Myka wanted to stop herself. Helena looked so ashamed of herself, so guilty. But Myka had to say it. "You chose a normal life over…" What was she going to say, a life with her? "Over us," she decided. It was an ambiguous enough answer to hide behind.

"I'm truly sorry."

"I know."


	5. Chapter 5

I apologise profusely for the wait, I had immense trouble with this chapter for a while. And I'd also like to apologise for the time jump in the last chapter. As a Brit, I'm not the best with American geography, and as I was so kindly made aware, there wasn't sufficient time between the call and Helena appearing. This did occur to me as I wrote it, but I didn't want to write a ton of filler while Myka waited and I just wanted the story to move forwards, so I'm sorry to people who might have been offended by my mistake and for future mistakes. Thank you for taking the time to read and I look forwards to your comments.

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"_I'm truly sorry."_

"_I know."_

There was a long moment of silence when neither woman spoke. They just found themselves caught in each other's eyes, unable or unwilling to break the contact. But, of course, they weren't done yet.

"Myka, I… I left Nate," said Helena. When Myka's face remained passive, Helena swallowed her fear and continued. "I tried to have the normal life I was forced to miss out on. But it didn't work. It wasn't me. I didn't belong there. I belong here… with…" Helena looked up. She wanted to finish the sentence, but the look on Myka's face made her stop. Helena dropped her gaze, feeling her emotions gaining control over her. She wanted to run again. It was what she was used it. It took so much for her to remain sitting where she was, opposite the one woman in the world who could completely destroy her without even lifting a finger.

"At the Warehouse?" suggested Myka. Secretly, the agent wished Helena to correct her. She wanted to know that her efforts, her pain over the last few years that was caused by HG Wells was worth something. But more than that, she wanted Helena. That's all.

"With… you," she said, taking a leap of faith. Silence fell again as Myka's green eyes glinted with some deep emotion Helena couldn't label. When the pause became too much for Helena's mind, she just had to fill the void. But then she lost her nerve, opening her mouth but nothing came out. Myka, choosing to take pity on the mentally flailing Victorian, spoke.

"With me?" she repeated quietly.

"Yes," replied Helena. "You were the only one to trust me. You made me feel welcome in this new world. And I can never forgive myself for what I did to you." Helena felt her emotional walls crumbling as she felt tears brimming in her eyes. She looked down, hiding her face from Myka as a tear dripped down her cheek. Myka set her mug on the table and enveloped Helena in a warm hug.

"Thank you for coming back," said Myka softly in Helena's shoulder. They remained in the comfortable embrace for much longer than standard, but eventually had to break away.

"So, what're you up to for the rest of the day?" asked Helena, laughing as she subtly wiped her eyes, still trying to hide form Myka. Myka smiled at her actions, finding it utterly adorable.

"I have the day off," she replied, smiling. Though they were no longer embracing, her hand was on Helena's.

"Excellent," replied Helena, unable to believe that Myka was letting her back into her life again after all she had done.

Myka padded into the kitchen about ten minutes later, closely followed by Helena and was surprised to see Abigail still standing there, watering some plants she had placed on the windowsill.

"Oh, hello, Myka," she said, quickly putting down the glass of water she was using to water the plants that Myka recognised to be rosemary. "Just give me a second and I'll be out of your way."

"No, no, it's fine," replied Myka. "Abigail, this is Helena."

"Hello, Abigail, I'm Helena George Wells," said Helena, switching her charm back on, offering Abigail her hand. Abigail took it, interested to see that the raven haired woman's earlier nerves had evaporated.

"H.G Wells? Were your parents a fan?" asked Abigail with a smile. Helena quickly glanced at Myka, with a look that the brunette read as 'She-doesn't-know?' Myka shook her head.

"Abigail, this _is_ HG Wells," said Myka, slowly. Abigail's eyes widened as she looked over the counter at Helena, who had a little grin on her face.

"_The_ HG Wells?" gasped Abigail. "But you're-"

"A woman?" suggested Helena.

"I was going to say dead, but that too," replied Abigail, transfixed on Helena, eyes wide with wonder.

"It's a long story…" said Myka with a sideways glance to Helena.

"So she's the therapist?" asked Helena as they left the kitchen about twenty minutes later, after discussing the bronzer and Helena and Victorian London. They had been interrupted from a delightful conversation; Abigail eager to learn about Helena, the Victorian only too happy to talk about herself and Myka looking on, interjecting little clarifications where needed, but then Artie had called with the order of getting down to the Warehouse as soon as possible. When Myka had asked, he instructed her to bring Helena too.

"Yes, she's helped Artie a lot," replied Myka as she pulled on a pair of boots by the door.

"She'd have a field day with me, I bet," laughed Helena.

"That's true," said Myka, straightening up and grabbing her jacket and keys and opening the door, shouting a goodbye to Abigail as Helena followed.

"Your car or mine?" asked Helena. Myka gave her a look. "What?"

"You drive like a psychopath," said Myka with a laugh. Helena looked appalled as Myka laughed even harder, unlocking her car and sliding into the driver's seat. "You coming?" she called through the window. Helena, still sporting a dismayed expression but couldn't suppress a smile as she pulled open the door and climbed into the SUV beside Myka.

The drive was pleasant to say the least. The sun shone down on the car as Helena lounged in the passenger seat, unused to the heat. Myka had turned on the radio and was humming along to the song, one that Helena had heard Adelaide singing at one point over the past few months. She smiled at the memory.

"Something amusing?" asked Myka with a grin as she watched the road.

"Just thinking," replied Helena, her arm hanging out of the window as the breeze ruffled her hair a little. Myka glanced in her direction and found herself mesmerised for a moment. The sunlight streamed over her pale face, her dark eyes glinting as her hair buffeted gently. Myka was transfixed until she realised she was driving and refocused on the road, which was pretty quiet anyway. She hoped Helena hadn't noticed.

They arrived at the Warehouse and walked side by side through the umbilicus. Helena had stepped out of the car and looked up at the magnificent building which she had missed so much. Now that she was here, she didn't know how she could have left. Looking at Myka, who was striding over to the door, she smiled. It was good to be home.

"Hey Artie," greeted Myka as she waltzed through the door, closely followed by Helena.

"Myka, Helena, excellent!" he exclaimed in reply, turning away from the computer and looking at the pair. Claudia, who was sitting, spun around in her chair at the mention of the inventor, and leapt up, throwing herself onto a rather shocked looking Helena. She froze for a moment as Claudia wrapped her arms around her, but then she embraced the young techie, holding her close, only just realising how much she had missed her. After a few moments, with Myka smiling at the pair and Artie awkwardly clearing his throat and shuffling back over to the computer, Claudia backed off, flushing slightly.

"Oh my God, hi," she said, caught between her genuine excitement at seeing her mentor and trying to play it cool. _Way to go, Claud_, she thought, mentally kicking herself. Helena merely smiled fondly at her young friend, patting her shoulder.

"Hello, my dear. How've you been?"

"Uh, good. Great. Warehousey stuff, y'know?" she paused, glancing at Myka. "Are you… back for good?" she asked, looking between the pair. Myka noticed that Artie had stopped looking through piles of paper and trying to busy himself during the reunion. He too was waiting for the answer.

"If the Regents allow. And all of you, of course," she replied after a moment of thought.

"Of course! Big yes from the Claudster!" the redhead said happily.

"Are we done with the hugging now? Can we get back to work?" interrupted Artie. "Claudia, I need those results two minutes ago."

"Alright, Granpa, geez," replied Claudia, rolling her eyes. She quickly hugged Helena again before throwing herself back into the spinning chair and typed furiously.

"So, Artie," said Myka, clearing her throat, stealing a glance at Helena, who looked a little emotional after Claudia's reaction. "What's up?"

"What's up? What's _up_?" replied Artie, turning, throwing two sheets of paper into the air. Helena glanced at Myka, shuffling backwards ever so slightly in case she was the cause of Artie's ire. "The Warehouse is going insane!"

"Insane?" asked Myka.

"It's like it's on PMS or something, Mykes. It's crazy!" interjected Claudia, still typing away.

"It seems fine-" started Helena, but that was when the floor shook, sending Myka and Helena flying to the floor, Artie falling against a desk and Claudia holding onto said desk as the tremors rocked the office.

"I thought we dealt with the screw incident!" yelled Myka across the room as papers flew everywhere.

"We did!" replied Claudia.

"Then what's this?"

"I have no idea!" said Claudia, reaching forwards and grabbing the computer screen before it fell. Finally, it subsided. Myka helped Helena up, brushing away a sheet of paper that had fallen on her back.

"Is everyone alright?" asked Artie, looking around his office, which looked like a bomb had gone off. Papers were scattered everywhere, books on the floor… he would have to coerce one of his agents to clean it up later.

"Yes," chorused the three women. Pete and Steve were off on a snag-and-bag.

"Oh my God," said Claudia shakily as she got to her feet, staring out of the window into the Warehouse.

"What is it?" asked Helena urgently, glancing in her direction. Claudia pointed, and Artie, Myka and Helena's eyes followed.

"No. No, no, no, this can't be happening," muttered Artie as he raced out onto the decking, the other three in tow. They looked out over the Warehouse floor, a breeze picking up and ruffling their hair.

"Artie?" said Myka, unable to tear her eyes away from the sight.

"This is bad," he replied. A cry of anguish made all of them turn as Claudia collapsed to the ground, curling into a ball, her eyes tight shut with pain. Artie was the first by her side.

"Claudia! Claudia, what do you feel?" he asked urgently. "Claudia!"

"It hurts, Artie!" she yelled in reply, writhing in pain.

"What do we do?" asked Helena, desperate to stop Claudia's pain.

"Get her into the office," he ordered. Helena nodded and helped the squirming Claudia to her feet, looping one arm around her waist and holding her close.

"Myka?" she said, wondering why she wasn't helping. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Myka staring down at the Warehouse floor. Helena followed her gaze. Far below was a great, blue pulsating ball of energy.

"Don't look directly at it!" demanded Artie, covering Helena's eyes with his hand.

"What is it? What's wrong with Myka?" she asked, verging on panic. The wind had grown stronger, buffeting against them. They had to duck a few times as a small object blew past them. From the middle of the energy ball, electric bolts would shoot out as it grew steadily bigger.

"I don't know!" replied Artie, reaching forwards and grabbing Myka's arm, trying to pull her back from the edge. "Myka!" he yelled.

"Artie…" she replied, her voice strangled and soft. "Artie, something's wrong," she said, turning to him, tears in her eyes.

"What?" he asked, as Helena looked on, holding a groaning Claudia tightly, supporting the red-head's weight.

"Something's wrong… with me," she said. "I can feel it…" Her eyes were strangely glassy.

"Myka! Clear your head! Don't look at it!"

"Artie, it knows everything… How? How can it know…?"

"Know what?" Artie demanded. The wind had increased ten-fold; Helena had to hold onto the door, her eyes barely able to remain open as she watched Myka's pale, tear-stained face as flashes of blue light reflected off of it, the mixture of light and shadows mesmerising.

"I'm dying…" she whispered, as if to herself, before an arc of electricity struck her in the back. She threw her arms out wide as she froze; the light from behind casting her in darkness for a moment, before she crumpled to the floor.

"Helena!" yelled Artie, snapping the woman back to reality – Helena was still processing. Myka had mouthed something before she was shocked, but she couldn't hear over the wind. "Get Claudia inside!" Helena nodded and dragged her into the office, laying her down on the rug. Artie ambled in, dragging Myka along with him. Helena ran over to help him as he slammed the door.

"Artie, what's happening?" she demanded, running a hand through her hair as she looked over the two bodies, one writhing in pain while the other was motionless. Helena dropped to her knees as she absently heard Artie muttering to himself, checking more bits of paper he picked up from the floor. She checked Myka's pulse, which she was glad to say was just a little higher than normal, her breathing regular. Checking her pupils, she sighed, relaxing. Myka was just unconscious. Hopefully. With the Warehouse, there was no telling.

"Artie!" shouted Helena, rising and turning to him. He paused, turning to her.

"I think… I think there's been an artefact disturbance."

"No, really?" replied Helena, her sarcasm easily hiding her fear and anxiety. "What was your first clue?" Artie glared at her.

"We need to find which is causing this."

"Well, we can't exactly go out and look," said Helena, gesturing to the window just as an arc of lightning struck the decking outside, making the floor quake slightly.

"Does the computer still work?" asked Artie. Helena glanced at the screen.

"Yes," she replied, before she was pushed out of the way as Artie hurried to sit and began typing. "Artie, how bad is this?" she asked, fearing the answer.

"I really don't know," he replied. "But we need to fix it. Fast."


	6. Chapter 6

Hey guys, this one is a bit intense, I think, I wanted the story to really go somewhere, so it goes a bit AU, and if it's a bit sloppy, I apologise, the plot's still a bit all over the place in my head. But I hope you enjoy, and please review. All mistakes are mine, unbeta'd and I want to thank the guest who left the wonderful review, and thanks to anyone else that I've missed when replying to comments, I try to answer them all, they really mean a lot :)

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Helena knelt next to Myka's prone figure, the agent lying on her back before the raven haired inventor, her thankfully warm hand clasped in Helena's tightly. Artie was searching through papers, talking to himself. Helena had abandoned any attempt to get him to tell her what he was thinking and instead decided to tend to Myka and Claudia. She had attempted to use the Farnsworth to contact Pete and Steve, but the machine had no signal. She had hurled it across the room with a frustrated yell of "Typical!" Now, she stared down at Myka's peaceful expression, watching for her chest to rise and fall. Her daze was broken a minute or so later as Claudia let out a loud gasp, shooting out of her previous spell of unconsciousness that she had fallen into soon after Helena had set her on the ground. Helena turned at the sound and grabbed Claudia's shoulders.

"Are you alright?" she asked, looking deep into Claudia's brown eyes, seeing the pupils correctly adjusting to the light Helena shone onto them. Claudia nudged her hand away as she carefully sat up, Helena's guiding hand on her shoulder.

"I'm fine…" she replied, tailing off as she saw the state of the office. "What the frak happened?" she asked, looking back at Helena. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the body behind the Victorian.

"You don't remember-?" started Helena, but was cut off by Claudia's cry of "Myka!" as the young techie scrambled to the older agent's side.

"Is she okay? What's happening? Where's Artie? What the hell is _that_?" All of this she blurted out at an incredibly fast rate, Helena barely able to keep up as she saw Claudia grasp Myka's hand, shake her shoulders, and, with Claudia's final sentence, point out of the window at the massive sphere of whirling energy.

"I don't know. I don't know. Over there. I don't know," replied Helena, in order, and this answer only reinforced how helpless she felt.

"Artie- OW!" Claudia shouted as she tried to get up, but the Warehouse shook again, throwing her off-balance and sending her crashing to the floor again. Helena had grabbed Myka's shoulders and held the still unconscious agent as the floor shook violently for a few seconds. Artie, on the other hand, had managed to stay on his feet, holding a piece of old paper in a scroll triumphantly above his head.

"Found it!" he yelled, sweeping all the remaining objects from the desk and unfurling the scroll. Claudia and Helena gathered on either side of him, looking down at the ancient looking paper.

"What's this?" asked Helena, looking over the thing.

"This…" started Artie, finger tracing one of the illustrations. "_This_ is the answer."

"Yo, Artemis, care to clue us in?" interjected Claudia, massaging her right elbow.

"This is a plan of the… the…" Artie gestured in the air for the right word. "The _brain,_ so to speak, of the Warehouse. The Warehouse is reacting to some sort of attack. I can only imagine that Mrs Frederick-" The floor shook again and the three gripped the desk, trying to stay upright as a filing cabinet across the room fell to the ground.

"Never mind. Basically, Claudia is being affected as she is the next Caretaker to the Warehouse-"

"What about Mrs F?" asked Claudia urgently.

"She's… I don't know," he replied, placing a hand on Claudia's shoulder as Helena continued scrutinising the scroll. "It could have weakened her to the point where control automatically went to you," he said. "That's why you've been feeling the Warehouse's pain."

"So she's…?" asked Claudia, unable to finish her sentence.

"I can't know for sure. Let's hope not. Either way, Mrs Frederick is too weak to fight for the Warehouse."

"Wait, fight?" interrupted Helena. "Claudia has to fight?"

"Maybe not! Look, will you two just let me finish?" demanded Artie. Both women fell silent. "Okay," sighed Artie, rubbing his brow, staring at the scroll. Depicted on the ancient paper was a wall with strange markings on it, like some form of runes or something. There was old, looping writing in the middle, written around the drawings. "There is somebody trying to take over the Warehouse."

"WHAT?" chorused Claudia and Helena.

"Silence! And it can only be another Caretaker."

"Another-?" asked Claudia, but Helena seemed to be catching on.

"Another person from the bronzer? That's the only way it's possible."

"I'm afraid so."

"How is that possible?" asked Helena. At this, Claudia swore. Helena and Artie turned their attention to her.

"Something you'd like to tell us?" asked Artie.

"Nick! It could only have been Nick! He was in the Warehouse, but I thought it was to steal something, I chased him out."

"Claudia! Check the cameras for the bronze sector!" ordered Artie. Claudia leapt across to the computer and typed as fast as she could, bringing up the camera feed and rewinding through it.

"There!" said Helena, pointing to the screen. Claudia played it and they watched Nick enter the bronze sector, use an artefact to help move one of the bronze victims and reverse the process. Then they spoke in German for a moment, which Artie translated, and finally left. Helena ran a hand through her hair as she cast a glance over her shoulder to see Myka stirring on the ground.

"Myka!" she cried, instantly at her side. Claudia and Artie returned to the scroll as they saw Myka seemed alright, Helena helping her to her feet at Myka's insistence.

"So this is the brain of the Warehouse?" asked Claudia, pointing to a small section that looked like a map in the faded ink.

"Yes. Every Warehouse is constructed from the same template."

"So this… Paracelsus… is in there?"

"I think so. Or he could be anywhere." Artie rubbed his brow for a moment. "Claudia, get as much information about Paracelsus as you can. Now!" Claudia obeyed without question, launching a search. Myka, meanwhile, was on her feet, feeling weary but otherwise okay.

"Myka, what did you say?" asked Helena cautiously. "Before, by the railings?"

"I… I said something?" Myka looked confused, but Helena could see a glimmer of recollection in her eyes.

"Yes, you mouthed something. You were in a strange trance."

"I can't remember," she replied. Sighing, frustrated, Helena gripped the front of Myka's shirt and invaded her personal space, staring right into her eyes.

"Myka, don't lie to me!" snapped Helena loudly, making every head turn towards her.

"Ah, Helena? I think you should let her go…" advised Claudia, having seen this look on Myka's face before, and the situation hadn't ended that well for Pete before. Myka's neck tensed, a typical sign of danger with her, as she used her height to her advantage, stepping within inches of Helena and towering over her, looking down at the Victorian. Although it was Helena who had killed MacPherson, Helena who had nearly ended the world and Helena who had sacrificed herself to save the Warehouse, she was now terrified of Myka. The look in her green eyes was enough to freeze blood, Helena imagined. But Helena didn't back down, instead stared back at her. She noticed the minute circles in Myka's iris. _Odd_, she thought to herself. Artie and Claudia had frozen in their tasks, watching how this stare-off would end. However, they'd never know, as the Warehouse shook again, throwing Myka and Helena together and forcing them to cling to each other to remain standing. When the quakes finally stopped, Myka helped Helena regain her balance and then stalked off to stand behind Claudia, her gaze switching between the screen and the energy outside. A few bolts of blue lightning cracked against the window. Helena joined Artie as they poured over the scroll, working out the information they needed.

"Artie!" yelled Claudia after a few minutes. Artie looked up from the scroll and hurried over at Myka's gesturing, Helena also joining them, a pencil tucked behind her ear. Myka couldn't suppress a small smile at the adorableness of Helena when she worked, but quickly wiped it off her face as Claudia began talking about what they had found.

"Paracelsus was Caretaker for Warehouse 9 before he was bronzed. It turns out that he was Nick's uncle. He made the Philosopher's Stone and wanted to make himself immortal. He tested his brother Bennett Sutton first, but Paracelsus also kidnapped his wife, Charlotte Dupres and his son and used the stone on all three. Paracelsus then used the stone to sacrifice an entire village full of people to make them immortal. Sutton decided to stop him from killing people."

"Right, so what's he doing here?" asked Helena.

"He wants the Warehouse…" answered Myka, her eyes glassing over for a moment, as if remembering something. "I could feel it, when I looked at the energy… He was talking to me. I could hear him in my mind, he told me that I… he said he wanted the Warehouse." She internally sighed in relief as she managed to cover her mistake. Except that Helena was giving her the look again, the one that told her she knew something was up.

"So he wants the Warehouse… he'll need to take over the brain."

"Which we can now locate," pointed out Helena, bringing over the scroll and pointing to the small section of map.

"Claudia, can you find that?" asked Artie. Claudia nodded and began typing, bringing up a floor-map of the Warehouse.

"So what do we do?" asked Myka.

"We have to stop him, Myka. We need to get Claudia down to take back over. I don't know exactly how, but she can do it. She's the Caretaker now, she needs to take power back from Paracelsus. Helena, Myka, you two will have to accompany her, make sure she's safe." Helena and Myka nodded.

"What about you?" asked Myka to Artie.

"I need to have a talk with Abigail," he said. "I'll see if I can fix the Farnsworths and bring Pete and Steve back."

"Alright, sounds like a plan," said Myka, tossing the Tesla to Helena and replacing it with a pistol. Artie went into a drawer and brought out one of Claudia's mini Teslas, handing it to her. Claudia reached out to take it, but Artie caught her hand in between his.

"Claudia, you don't have to if you don't want to," he said seriously. Claudia looked a little shocked. Artie scrutinised her face. She looked scared. Terrified. But there was the element of steel that made her strong. The same steel that had made her determined not to give up on finding her brother. And in that moment, he knew she wouldn't leave.

"I can't, Artie," she replied, her lip quivering ever so slightly. "I have to stay. I…" She glanced up, looking for the words, taking a deep, steadying breath that came out shakily. "I can _feel_ it."

"If you're sure," said Artie, stepping forwards and wrapping his arms around the techie, who hugged him back. It was a short but sweet moment that was over all too soon as Artie pulled himself away, casting a quick glance to Helena and Myka, who looked ready to take down an army. Helena was armed with two normal Teslas, her grappler, it seemed, had been strapped to her leg the entire time, just in case, and was now slung across her belt. Myka stood with her pistol in its holster on her belt, the Tesla rifle held in her arms. Claudia had her small Tesla and one of her grenades on her hip. Artie shuffled out, leaving the three there.

"Ready?" asked Myka to Claudia, standing next to her. Claudia took a breath and nodded. Myka was used to field work, as was Helena. Claudia knew though, somewhere inside her, that this was what she had to do.

"You bet," smiled Claudia, hoping her nerves didn't show through her voice. Apparently she had failed, as Myka swept her into a tight hug, Claudia feeling tears brimming in her eyes as she pulled away, Helena giving her a gentle kiss on the forehead and a small hug as Claudia pried the door open, immediately buffeted by the wind as she walked along the gangway, shouting at the Warehouse in general, words of encouragement.

"Ready, Myka?" asked Helena.

"As I'll ever be," replied Myka, casting her gaze over the author, but then hurrying out of the door as soon as their eyes met. She couldn't do it. She couldn't lie to Helena and she didn't want her to know about her illness. Helena sighed as she followed after her. Something was wrong. Helena knew she would find out, she just hoped they were all alive at the end of this to actually talk about it. Checking the knife she had slipped into her belt from the office, she knew one couldn't be too careful.


	7. Chapter 7

Hey guys, I am soooo sorry for the long wait, Uni and a bunch of other things kind of piled up. But I'm getting back on track and here's the update! Once again, all mistakes are mine, no copyright intended, and I'd love to hear what you think. Also a big thanks to all the followers and favourites and comments, I honestly never expected any of them, so I'm very grateful. Enjoy :)

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They filed out of the office, the three women, Myka in the lead, Claudia in the middle, and Helena bringing up the rear. There could be anything, all sorts of traps Paracelsus could have set for the agents. Myka swung the rifle down the aisles as they walked, ready to shoot anything. She was unbelievably glad that Claudia had altered the Teslas so they didn't need to recharge. They had had to duck under arcs of lightning coming from the swirling mass suspended in the air. Thankfully, the bolts seemed to just miss them, every time. Claudia smiled, knowing the Warehouse was trying to protect them. She checked the tablet she had in her pocket, looking at the floor map with the illuminated pathway to the brain.

"Next right!" yelled Claudia. The wind was weaker, but it still ruffled their hair around.

"Clear!" replied Myka, not seeing any signs of danger, looking from side to side. They entered the aisle, and were halfway down before they heard a shrill cry.

"Down!" shouted Helena from the back. Claudia and Myka hit the floor as a large bolt swept over them, striking the shelves behind them. "Claudia!" screamed Helena, diving across the gap between them and snatching a falling artefact from the shelves, a small, metal slightly imperfect ball, slightly smaller than a tennis ball.

"Bag it!" yelled Claudia, scrambling from underneath the injured Victorian, as Helena's arm began to turn white, gasping in pain. The deathly pallor was travelling quickly up her arm and spreading up her neck and down her chest. Her breathing hitched as Helena collapsed down onto the floor of the Warehouse, her good hand clawing at her now numb arm. It was turning slightly blue.

"HG!" yelled Claudia, collapsing to her knees next to her. Myka stood frozen, arms locked on the Tesla rifle. She couldn't move. She should. She had to. But she was rooted to the spot, watching Helena writhe on the ground. "Myka, what the frack are you doing? Help her!" the red-head yelled. Myka met Helena's eyes for a moment, and she understood. Myka whipped out a spare bag that she always carried with her, just in case and handed it down to Helena.

"I'm fine, you keep going!" Helena hissed, snatching at the spare bag with her good hand, tipping the ball into the bag and closing her eyes as the sparks flew. Myka dropped to her knees next to Helena, stooped down and pressed a quick kiss onto Helena's cold lips, before scrambling back to her feet and pulling a shocked Claudia with her. "I'll catch up!" gasped Helena, half from the artefacts effects as blood began circulating around her body again, and half from the feeling of Myka's lips on hers. Helena then moaned as her arm filled up with blood again, the pins and needles giving way to pain as she struggled to sit up.

Claudia looked back to see Helena writhing on the floor as they turned the corner.

"Shouldn't we see if she's okay?" she panted, the mini-Tesla held tightly in her hand. "And nice use of the pressurised situation to make a life changing decision!"

"Head in the game, Claud!" called Myka as Claudia ran beside her. Myka didn't let herself look back. They didn't have time to help her. They had to fix this now. They ran the length of the aisle and came to the end, which was thankfully clear. Myka had no idea what sort of traps Paracelsus could have set for them. The last time soemthign like this had happened, she had taken the quick way with Pete and avoided it completely. Her keen eyes were scannign absolutely everything.

"Don't quote High School Musical references at me at a time like this!" retorted Claudia, also looking out for danger. She had a slight edge over Myka with knowledge of the inventory and layout, but also with these odd feelings teh Warehouse seemed ot be throwing her way. This was as close to Pete's vibes as she could imagine, just random sparks of bad energy from one aisle, which Claudia grabbed Myka to avoid and used the next one.

"Quote what?" panted Myka as they turned yet another corner. Sometimes she had absolutely no clue what these 'references' were. Whenever she made any witty, literary references, nobody got it. Well, Helena sometimes, but only in the few works she had read since being debronzed. It was quite infuriating at times.

"Never mind! Wait!" Claudia shouted, throwing her hand out and halting Myka in her tracks. Myka skidded to a halt, the Tesla rifle pointing straight ahead and her eyes darting everywhere. Her finger itched on the trigger.

"What? What is it?" asked Myka urgently. She was putting the pieces together – Claudia's puzzled expression and a sudden white bolt of lightning striking the floor next to a statue of a small boy. Tremors vibrated through the floor under their feet, threatening to knock them off-balance. Myka grabbed Claudia's shoulder to steady them both.

"I can't see the tag from here, but it can't be good," said Claudia, one hand in her hair, holding it off of her face as a gust of wind blew past them. She sounded worried. Myka squeezed her shoulder comfortingly as she looked at the statue, trying to work it out. It was just another puzzle. That was all. They jumped as another bolt hit near the statue in front of them. Myka stared at it as a flicker of an idea jolted through her mind.

"Should we just bag it?" inquired Claudia, her voice slightly hoarse from calling over the wind, reaching into her pocket for a bag.

"Wait a second," said Myka, thinking it over quickly.

"What?" asked Claudia impatiently, looking for a way around the statue. Maybe they could just avoid it altogether.

"Well, why leave it out in the open, unless he wanted us to think it was a trap," explained Myka, quirking an eyebrow as the cogs in her mind turned. The solution struck her as she whirled around, looking desperately in every direction. "And look, we've been standing here, just waiting for an atta- duck!" yelled Myka, grabbing Claudia's arm and yanking her to the floor as a samurai sword flew through the air above them, crashing against the shelf above them, dislodging a few smaller artefacts. Scrambling to her feet, Myka brought up the Tesla in time to block the next strike and kick the attacker, a figure dressed in plain, black clothing with a mask covering their face, save for a strip that revealed their pitch black eyes.

"What is that?" asked Myka, referring to the statue as she kicked the attacker again in the leg, making them yell out and lose their footing a little. The attacker backed off, in a ready stance – the sword aimed right between Myka's eyes –and tilted their head, assessing the situation. Myka and the attacker were locked in a glare, waiting to see who would make their move first. If Myka fired and missed, the kickback would prevent her from firing again in quick succession, and leave them vulnerable for a moment. Only a moment, but it could be enough to end their mission right here. Claudia was on her feet behind Myka and aiming her Tesla at the figure, but Myka then took her chance just as the figure took a quick step forwards. She flicked a switch on the Tesla and fired once, hitting the figure square in the chest. The figure disappeared in a burst of sparks, the golden-yellow lights showering up into the air and falling to the ground like strange snowflakes. Myka winced as she finally realised her right arm had been nicked in the fight. Checking it, she found the shallow cut just below her elbow. It was nothing serious.

"The statue belonged to an ancient Lord who had eleven samurai at his command," read Claudia from the tag. "He charged them to protect his only son – the boy in the statue. His father made it for him. Whoever touches the statue will be protected by the eleven samurai!"

"Can't we just goo it and the samurai will be gone?" asked Myka. Claudia consulted the tag again, muttering the information until she found the correct part.

"No, the eleven are out for as long as they, or the person who initiated the artefact's effects are alive."

"So we've got ten more to deal with? Brilliant," sighed Myka. "Keep an eye out, Claudia," she said, trying not to think about what would happen if one of them found Helena.

They were drawing closer, and Myka was growing edgy – they hadn't encountered any more samurai. Or anything else for that matter, but that might have something to do with Claudia diverting them seemingly randomly from certain aisles. But something was off here. And she defiantly kept her thoughts away from Helena. She couldn't afford to be distracted, even though her brain was yelling at her to turn back and make sure she was okay. No, she had to be strong and she had to protect Claudia, and the Warehouse. Duty first, personal later, as she had been taught.

"Are we close?" asked Myka to Claudia. They were in a surprisingly calm part of the Warehouse now, after all the wind and lightning and rumbling from the thunder and from the tremors. Myka didn't like it.

"Yeah, we're close," answered Claudia. "Just a few more turns and we should be there." Claudia didn't look too happy either. "It feels like a video-game," she said suddenly.

"What?" asked Myka, only half paying attention as she was on high alert for danger.

"In video-games, there's the boss, and you have to beat the minions to get to him. Usually, just outside the boss-room, there are a lot of strong minions," Claudia explained, hands gripping the Tesla tightly. She had pocketed her tablet as the Warehouse was guiding her, using the weird feelings she couldn't really put into words.

"You think the samurai are guarding it?" asked Myka as she sped up towards the end of the long aisle, Claudia keeping pace with her.

"It's possible. I don't know where that thought came from, it just…" Claudia tailed off as they cautiously approached the end of the aisle. The next word from the young tech's mouth was an expletive.

"I hate it when you're right…" sighed Myka as she gripped the Tesla tighter, putting herself in front of Claudia.


End file.
